


Helem

by Miss_Von_Cheese



Category: Spartacus Series (TV)
Genre: Clubbing, Clueless Agron, Dancing, Döner, Flirting, Love at First Sight, M/M, MMA, Modern AU, Muslim Character, Political Commentary, well kinda
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-30
Updated: 2018-12-30
Packaged: 2019-09-30 17:40:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 8,294
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17228420
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Miss_Von_Cheese/pseuds/Miss_Von_Cheese
Summary: The guy tilted his head back, exposing his glistening throat, and Agron knew he was lost. He hated clubbing, he hated pop music, he hated to dance, and in a second he managed to put down his drink and walk to the most handsome man in the club who, apparently, had chosen him among others. It could be a deadly trap but he would die happy if it were.Agron leaned in, hands ghosting over the boy's waist. “Hi, I'm Agron and I’m a terrible dancer!” he greeted sheepishly.“Hi, I'm Nasir and I don't give a fuck,” the boy replied with a confident smile, rolling his hips to meet Agron's touch.





	1. Don't threaten me with a good time

**Author's Note:**

> Depending on your tolerance to these things, and the country you're from, the fic could be either rated Teen or Mature for some sexy descriptions. I'm pretty sure if you clicked the Nagron tag you don't really mind.

The night was chilly, late October weather covered the streets of Berlin with a mild fog. Agron pulled his favorite beanie over his ears with a grunt. Why did he follow Duro and his stupid ideas again? Just because he had to stop being “all work and no play”, as his whole team said, was it really worth it? That was a terrible idea from the start and they all knew it, Agron was not a party animal. He danced like a chained bear, he hated strong alcohols, his flirting was awkward on good days, and he didn't have money to spend on outrageously expensive beers when he could just relax at home with some good bottles from his favorite organic brewery. 

No, really, this was a terrible idea. 

Agron already had a plan: get in, spend some time with his buddies from The Ludus, celebrate Gannicus’ recent crowning as MMA Champion, then discreetly leave and go home with a döner before Duro would be back too with yet another shag and wake the whole neighborhood up. This was an excellent plan, Agron mused, lost in his thoughts as Duro kept babbling about Gannicus’ new victory --it was a good one but Agron had already congratulated him, why was he forced to attend the party? He did not notice the silhouette on his path, bumped his shoulder into a young man on the sidewalk. 

“Sorry, sorry!” the boy apologized with an air of sincere regret, despite his not being responsible at all. 

Agron barely slowed down as he looked up from the ground to face the cutest guy he had ever laid eyes on. He had bronze skin, dark eyes with too long lashes, hair tied in a bun, and his face reflected the sadness of an old man. He looked like Agron's shoulder bumping against him was yet another heavy rock added to his burden. 

“No, I am sorry,” Agron blushed. “Are you ok?” 

The man sighed, shoulders slumping and he nodded, “Fine, thanks.” And he swiftly turned around, leaving Agron confused, moved, and still breathless from such pretty sight. Duro grabbed his arm and pulled him hard, so Agron could only follow, wondering what could make the handsome stranger so sad. He looked desperate, in need of something but what? A shoulder to lean on perhaps, someone to listen to him? Agron bit his lower lip, he had to stop being so sentimental. This guy was a total stranger and would remain one ad aeternam. 

“Heyyyy, guys!” Duro exclaimed with his loud arena voice, rousing him from his thoughts. When he saw the wide group of fighters that had gathered at the club's door, Agron understood it would not be a simple party between close friends. Half of the Ludus was present, ready to spend the night dancing, drinking, and probably fucking, together or with others. Even Spartacus was there with Mira, a large brush in his pocket and new “White people for Black Lives Matter” posters in the streets all around proved he had used the invitation as an opportunity for more militant work. Only Oenomaeus noticed his face and nodded with an understanding smirk, finding the prospect of a sleepless night in a loud place as unappealing as Agron did. 

.

The club was packed with people, their group merely adding to the crowd. It was too much, too hot, too many flashing lights, too many curious hands. Why couldn't they party in a good old pub? The music was loud and to Agron's horror it was latin night. Doing shots listening to reggaeton, now this might have been close to his worst nightmare! That kind of music was good for people who actually danced, like Crixus and Naevia who seemed to perform something that looked more like intercourse than a choreography, or Saxa whose bouncing thighs had quickly attracted five men around her. Agron, had he tried to even move to this rhythm, would have looked like he humped the air like a dog in heat. So he chose to remain at his table with Oenomaeus and Melitta, both love birds too infatuated with each other to even look around. They were happy to join Gannicus’ little party but looked eager to come back home and spend a quiet night, while on the dancefloor Duro and most of their men were dancing like their lives depended on it, as if they had not already spent a good amount of their energy training and fighting today.

“So, you guys are still good with Gannicus?” Agron asked, sincerely interested.

Both his friends nodded in unison, blushing, and Melitta replied with a soft smile, “Yeah! He shares his time between Saxa's apartment, Sybil's loft, and ours, and…”

“He remains free as always,” Oenomaeus added, raising an eyebrow, stranger to those open relationships customs. It had always seemed funny to Agron that such committed lovers could end up in a polyamorous liaison with someone like Gannicus, but the slutty Frenchie was so fond of them, his heart had the faithfulness his cock could not keep. 

Their gazes both followed said blonde fighter, hero of the night, as he moved gracefully in the crowd, as always cocky and proud of himself. His moves were nonchalant but his gaze focused like a predator as he followed a path to a target known of himself only. He was on the hunt. In a few seconds he slid close to a young man placed so that Agron could only see his back and a really nice piece of ass in tight jeans. 

Agron almost choked on his too expensive beer -but swallowed it anyway, each swig worth at least one euro. Bubbles tickled his sinus as his look lingered all over the beautiful swaying form next to Gannicus. Tight jeans hugged the curves of strong thighs and round ass, hips moving in rhythm to Fonsi's warm voice, suddenly making Despacito the most interesting song in history. The boy wore a white t-shirt that made him shine under neon lights and his long black hair flew free on his shoulders. For a second Agron felt incredibly jealous of Gannicus; yes, he was an amazing fighter but did he really have to snatch all the most attractive people in Berlin? It was not in the contract, was it?

Yet, to everyone's surprise, the guy slightly turned and gave Gannicus a bright smile as he shook his head from left to right, politely but firmly showing he was not interested at all. Crixus let out a loud laugh, covered by the music, and Agron's jaw went slack as the stranger turned around, showing a face just as handsome as the rest of him. He was breathtaking. And for refusing advances from someone as hot as Gannicus, probably straight or ace. Or both. Like a cat, the French fell back to his paws and found another target, but Agron's eyes couldn't leave the gorgeous figure, beauty standing off in the crowd. 

He watched his smiling face for the tenth time in a row when Agron remembered where he had seen him before: in the streets, barely one hour ago. It was the same guy, the sad beauty he had pushed by accident! Agron was certain now, he recognized the thick lashes, the shape of his jaw, the curve of his eyebrows he might have observed a bit too much during their brief encounter. He could tell it was him, same bronze skin and dark hair, and yet he looked radically different under the colored lights. He looked happy. As he moved, hands in his hair, a huge grin on his face, hips swaying, he seemed freed from his torments. As if dancing took his troubles away and joy could bloom without his nervous frown. 

Everything about him was beautiful and appealing: the way he rolled his shoulders, the waves of his slim waist, even the sweat shining on his skin or staining his t-shirt. Agron wanted an opportunity to get close to the guy but he was not a good dancer, and many people had had the same idea already. He was far from the most talented at flirting, he stood no chance. Save from Barca and Pietro who were already devouring each other in the middle of the dancing crowd, and Spartacus who recruited people for his many activist groups, most of the Ludus guys, were trying to get the pretty boy's favors. Agron watched all of them fail one after another with a strange satisfaction. 

Raskhos waited until he was at the bar to offer to share a cocktail but the guy refused with a smile that would have made anyone swoon. Lugo tried to dance behind him and hold his hips, and the pretty boy shimmied out of his grip, with his signature smile, to ease the pain of the ones he rejected. Nemetes lifted his own shirt to show off his square abs, which got him an amused laughter but nothing more, and Duro did not even begin to impress him with his dreadlocks.

The tantalizing boy kept dancing on his own, t-shirt lifting when he raised his arms, showing a stripe of brown skin and a lovely trail of dark hair. He had a polite smile, playful, when he rejected his suitors for a night, but when he lost himself in the music, alone in the crowd, he was beaming. Dancing made him look gleeful, he did not even try to look hot, he just was. He enjoyed what he was doing, uninterested by the effect he had on others, like how poor Agron kept sucking on his beer bottle like a dying man in the desert. 

After most of the club was gently rejected by the dark haired beauty, Saxa even tried her luck and managed to steal a longer dance from him but nothing more. They all had to admit defeat, surrender to their fate, and accept that the guy was probably married, monogamous, and faithful. Or a catholic priest. 

“Aren't you going to try?” Duro asked as he crashed on the couch next to Agron, two pretty androgynous creatures in his arms. “Maybe you’re exactly what he's looking for?” 

Agron shrugged, unsure what his brother meant by that, “I'm dying to for sure but I don't think he's looking for anyone tonight. The guy looks happy on his own. Gonna take a piss and think about it. What do I look like?” 

“Ugly as fuck, as usual,” Duro grinned, one hand on each his partners’ waists. Agron flipped him the bird and walked away to the toilets. 

He looked at himself in the mirror as he washed his hands. To be fair he could not see what anyone could like about him, he was a tall average-looking guy, he had absolutely nothing to impress the dancing beauty out there. He would have loved to be able to spark a light of interest in those dark eyes, bring him home and get to know him better, but in no universe could he see himself succeed where all of his friends had failed, even Gannicus.

Agron wondered for a second if he should go back home and not ruin his training session of tomorrow, but the second he laid eyes on the guy, he resolved to stay at least for another drink that turned into a couple of hours, to allow himself to be mesmerized by the show.

He walked to the bar, ordered another beer (“How much? Are you fucking kidding me?”) and rested his elbow on the countertop to watch from a new angle the most handsome dancer of the night. He was not stalking, ok? He was just… appreciating beauty. The guy seemed to never tire of music, moves still flowing, selfish grin not fading. One could have believed he was high on Molly or any happiness inducing drug but his own moves, the trance of being lost in the music were only responsible for his joy. His face was radiating such pure happiness that, when he opened his eyes and his gaze crossed Agron's, the young fighter could not help but offer his widest grin in return. The guy's joy was too contagious to remain unaffected. 

Agron had smiled because the boy was handsome, full of a unique kind of light and energy, without wanting more than to encourage him to keep enjoying himself. And yet the moment they had all waited for came right now, as Agron hoped for nothing more than a smile in return. The guy’s lashes fluttered, he bit his lower lip with a coy smile and looked down, almost embarrassed. His moves slowed down for a second and he looked up, almost shy, before he returned the smile with a wink. He then slid one of his thumbs in the loop of his belt, held his other hand in front of him, palm up, and curled his fingers quickly to invite Agron to join him. 

Agron's eyebrows shot up and he almost spat his beer. He pointed at his chest with his thumb, cheeks burning, unsure if he was making a fool of himself. He was fantasizing, right? As the guy nodded, pointing at him to make a point, Agron had to admit he had done the impossible. And now he was not sure how to act. He shook his head, gave a grimacing grin, tried to show the bar instead, but pretty guy insisted and Agron knew he was screwed. 

He could either reject the sexy bastard and punch himself in the face out of frustration, or join him on the dancefloor and make a fool of himself. Both options sucked. The guy tilted his head back, exposing his glistening throat, and Agron knew he was lost. He hated clubbing, he hated pop music, he hated to dance and in a second he managed to put down his drink and walk to the most handsome man in the club who, apparently, had chosen him among others. It could be a deadly trap but he would die happy if it were.

Agron leaned in, hands ghosting over the boy's waist. “Hi, I'm Agron and I’m a terrible dancer!” he greeted sheepishly.

“Hi, I'm Nasir and I don't give a fuck,” the boy replied with a confident smile, rolling his hips to meet Agron's touch.


	2. Tahini Sauce?

Agron leaned in, hands ghosting over the boy's waist. “Hi, I'm Agron and I’m a terrible dancer!” he greeted sheepishly.

“Hi, I'm Nasir and I don't give a fuck,” the boy replied with a confident smile, rolling his hips to meet Agron's touch. 

It didn't take much more for Agron to give in to temptation and run his hands over Nasir's waist, to feel each and every one of his moves. With the music so loud, they could not really hear each other so they resolved to let their eyes and hands do all the talking. Fingers brushed, open palms caressed, eyes locked. Nasir's hands traveled down his lower back, cupped his ass, making Agron shiver despite the warm atmosphere. He found himself a great dancer guided by inappropriate hands, knew it probably was not true but still couldn't stop moving. 

“Are you an incubus?” Agron heard himself shout against his partner's ear. 

Nasir laughed, a charming, deep laugh, thick accent coming through. “If that's your way of asking if I'm a top or a bottom, this is classy!” 

Agron had to gulp for air as the guy stood too close, too cocky. With his face shining with sweat, his red cheeks and mouth open on a breathless sigh, Agron could only start to imagine his face when he fucked, a sight pleasant to mind. 

Nasir was gorgeous, his face reflected the type of kindness Agron rarely saw at the Ludus. His body was graceful, sensual but not feminine. His smiles and seductive looks seemed sincere. He was a strange little man, flirting with a golden heart. 

Agron wanted to kiss him, take him right there in front of everybody, show him the desires he sparked with his daring moves, and yet he felt like he could never prevent the man from dancing, not when it made him so happy. He felt Nasir's hands all over his body, guiding him, turning him on like no one ever did. When Nasir turned around and arched his back against him, Agron found his place once again, hips grinding together, hands on his waist, face buried against his neck. He kissed the soft skin, felt more than he heard the purrs in Nasir's throat. Had he lost all sense of decency he would have humped the boy right now, lost himself against his pretty ass. 

When he looked up, Nasir's hands resting next to his head to keep him close, he noticed the looks. All his teammates were staring at him from afar, Gannicus even raised his bottle to congratulate him for getting the trophy they all had tried to catch, and Agron realized he had been better than him for once. Better than all of them. Still, his friends’ attitude embarrassed him because Nasir was nothing but sweet, and he did not deserve to be treated like some kind of game. 

Agron knew he probably still looked like a puppet when he danced, and he was not really raising his reputation right now, but he could not stop. To be fair, he did not care either, Nasir's enthusiasm was too contagious. 

.

They danced until Agron's body was almost numb from desire and exhaustion. He was an athlete, he could handle punches and hits that made his bones shake but sexy hips were testing the limits of his stamina. Nasir's thick hair stuck to his sweaty skin as he moved, as to not let him leave. 

Feeling the pace of his moves slow down, Nasir stroked his thumbs on Agron's jaw. He pulled him closer, planted a soft kiss on his lips, so tender Agron had trouble focusing on what he said next.

“I'm sorry?” he mumbled. 

Nasir laughed, and repeated, “I asked what were your plans for the night?” 

Agron had a hard time thinking with all these hands all over his body (they were at least two!), and that sweet mouth that brushed against his ear. He stated, “Honestly I was thinking about döner, beer, then home.” 

Nasir paused for a second, surprised, expecting a naughtier answer, and Agron bit his lower lip, thinking he should really learn to up his flirting game. Wow, he was making him dream right now! But Nasir laughed and nodded, “Not was I thought you'd say but I'll take it. Is it a date?” 

Agron shrugged, confirmed with a grin, “Yeah, it's a date!” 

.

When they walked towards the exit, rushing through the dancing crowd, and grabbed their clothes to go out, Nasir did not let go of his hand, which Agron found charming. They were holding hands like school boys, fingers entwined, as if they had not spent a good part of the evening giving each other hard-ons in front of everybody. 

It's only when they could finally breathe the fresh air in the streets, when Agron wrapped his scarf around his neck and pulled his beanie over his head again that Nasir opened wide eyes. 

“Shit, you're the guy from earlier!” 

Agron chuckled, “Oh you had not noticed yet?” 

“Well, there's a huge difference between…” Nasir mused, gesturing towards his chest. “You in winter clothes and you with your guns out in the club.” 

He then contained a shiver, complained about the cold, shaking like a grandma, and they started walking to the döner around the corner that remained open almost all night. They walked in to see Castus slicing meat with his electric knife. His signature smile bloomed on his face, he turned to Agron to greet him as he always did, warm and welcoming, before he noticed Nasir and his smile grew even bigger. 

“Agron, my man, the usual?” Castus asked, wiping his hands on his cloth. Agron nodded and wondered what was hidden behind the soft look the cook gave Nasir. “Darling, the usual?” 

Nasir smiled, “Yep. And don't try to ruin my date, habibi, I told you I was not interested.” 

“You are so cruel,” Castus pouted as he started working his magic on two large wraps. He added, looking at Agron, “All the prettiest are, right? Ah… I wish I could be you, even for a night.” 

Agron bit his lower lip, embarrassed by the turn of events. He had seen Castus flirt with clients many times before, it was a running joke and part of his courteousness, he was warm and polite to everyone, but never did he seem to actually mean it like tonight. They waited for their meal in silence, unsure what to say. Agron noticed Castus was very generous with Nasir's portion and turned around not to see his enamored looks anymore. 

“Beer?” Agron asked as he leaned into the fridge to get their drinks. 

“No alcohol, thanks,” Nasir replied. “Coke will be good.” 

Agron placed both cans on the counter with a worried frown, “I --uh… I'm not trying to get you drunk, don't worry.” 

Nasir shook his head, giving Castus a quick knowing glance. “No, that's not it, I trust you don't worry, I just don't drink.” 

“Oooh ok, I see, straight-edge? A lot of my friends are!” Agron asked as he took a bill out of his purse to pay for both. He saw Nasir’s smile fade, like he was annoyed by his words, but could not understand what he had said wrong. 

Nasir shook his head with a fond look, the kind of look you give the idiot cousin at family dinners, and gestured towards his own face. “Muslim…” 

Agron felt himself blush, judged by two sets of dark eyes. Under the bright lights of the kebab house, he should have seen how Mediterranean features matched his date's name, and made the connection. He bit his lower lip, mimicked Nasir's gesture towards his own face, and apologized, “Sorry… dumbass.” 

Castus seemed to pity him and came to the rescue, handing them two large wraps rolled in tin foil and white paper. “There you go, lovebirds, enjoy your night!” 

Nasir took his arm to go out and Agron let himself be guided, to stop being awkward for at least one second. 

.

Once they started eating, the atmosphere got lighter and they could talk again. Agron had never seen Castus so direct and almost rude. He looked completely in love with Nasir, a feeling Agron could understand quite well: the guy was precious. They decided to head towards Agron's apartment to escape the cold to which Nasir seemed sensitive. 

“So, what do you do for a living?” Nasir asked, chewing on his midnight snack with pleased moans. 

Agron had to take a second to think because nothing beat the sight of such handsome guy eating with pleasure. He swallowed his own bite, then explained, “I'm a coach, I work in a gym. I train clients and help them reach their goals, whether for aesthetic reasons, health, or physiotherapy. You?”

“Oh, I-- I have small jobs, here and there…” Nasir shrugged before he added, waving his fingers towards Agron's chest, “So that's why the nice body, hm?” 

Agron blushed. Every compliment made him weak in the knees, unable to believe his luck. “Yeah. I also do a lot of free fight, you know? MMA, cage fights…”

“What? Is that even legal?” Nasir coughed, either because his food was too spicy or because of his surprise. 

“Oh yeah don't worry I don't do shady stuff, my guys and I have a completely legal club! This is nothing like street fights. It's a real sport with many advantages, good for stamina and strength…” Agron enumerated, missing the way Nasir smirked at the word ‘stamina’.

Nasir thought about it for a while as he ate, then playfully nudged his shoulder. “Well, if it were Fight Club you wouldn't talk about it, so I guess I'm fine.”

Agron gave him a reassuring smile and opened the door of his building. He watched as Nasir looked all around, always observant and curious. And handsome. He wanted to make him feel good, welcome, even though the flat was small and shared with Duro. Nasir was the kind of guy Agron could fall for in an instant if he weren't careful. He already wanted to smother him with kind attentions, everything to see that beautiful smile appear again.

He was impossible, Agron thought as they entered the apartment, he could not even do one night stands right. He was supposed to take the guy home, have a fucking good time then both would go their own way. He should not already wonder what Nasir ate for breakfast. 

As soon as he walked into the living room, Nasir froze in front of the picture on the wall, checking it for a long moment. It had been taken after Agron's first victory in a championship, and he had to admit he looked badass, all protections removed but his black shorts, still high on adrenaline. It was such a great memory, and Nasir looked both worried and mesmerized.

“Sorry for the mess,” Agron apologized again, hiding a pair of dirty boxers under the couch with his foot. 

“It's alright, really,” Nasir assured. “My room is not better. You live here alone?” 

“With my brother, Duro. Fair warning, he might come back later with a plus one… or two.” 

“Oh really? Who are you guys, the horny brothers?” Nasir joked as he finished his kebab and licked his fingers. He rolled the paper and hesitated for a while before his host threw it for him on a close table.

“No, I'm the good one!” Agron protested. “I never bring anyone here, for once I won't be alone when he wakes the neighborhood up.” 

Nasir took his hand, gently tugged on his fingers, flirty smile back on his face. “So this is it? Am I just a tool to make your brother jealous of your performances?”

“Hey, I'm not the one who made the first step,” Agron pouted, but moved closer anyway.

“Fair enough!”

Agron ran his thumb on Nasir's cheek, noticing a drop of tahini sauce. “You have…”

He gently leaned in to kiss the stain, licked the sauce with the tip of his tongue before Nasir joined him and let their lips meet. He knew he could not stop kissing him once he'd start, thankfully the feeling was reciprocated.

Nasir dived into the kiss, opening his mouth, leaning into him, raising himself on his toes to be closer. Agron helped his gorgeous date out of his coat, fingers running in the long hair still damp with sweat behind his neck. He kissed his jaw, his throat as he let his scarf fall to the ground. Nasir grabbed the edge of his beanie and pulled it down until Agron was blinded. The fighter remembered Gannicus’ epic blindfolded victory for a second and knew he would never win this round tonight. 

“Shit, I thought hiding your pretty eyes would cool me down but now I only see your smile, and that's even hotter,” Nasir laughed before he kissed him again, much deeper, sensations made even more intense by not seeing anything. 

Agron moaned into his mouth. Nasir could have handcuffed him or done anything he wished right now and Agron would have been happy anyway. If the boy fucked as he danced, the night would be a good one. 

Agron managed to remove his beanie, smiling as Nasir couldn't stop kissing him either. They walked to the bedroom, hands searching under their clothes, pushing and pulling each other against the walls. Agron loved how Nasir touched and kissed, he wasn't shy nor skimping on kisses like some of his last Grindr shags. And he smiled, always, like Agron's mouth on his neck was the most pleasant thing he ever felt. He voiced what he liked, whispered soft “Yes” when Agron's teeth found his ear, arched under his touch, demanding for more.

They crashed on Agron's messy bed, panting already, breathless, legs entwined, hips grinding together in an even more sexual fashion than they had in the club. 

Nasir rolled his head on the pillow with a gasp when Agron sucked a hickey on his throat. “Tell me you have condoms!”

It was more of an order than a request, and Agron was happy to provide. He straddled Nasir's hips, leaned towards the bedside as curious hands took care of his jeans’ fly and buttons. Nasir's fingers were brushing the edge of his boxers when Agron let out a desperate grunt.

“No… no, fuck. Fuck him!” he whined, rummaging through the drawer. 

He was on the verge of crying out ‘Moooom, Duro took all my rubbers’ like a toddler; only the fear of his Ma’s ghost haunting him during sex prevented him from doing so. He crawled on the mattress, frantically searched through his stuff, looked under the bed between dust bunnies, perched on the edge, before he gave Nasir a sorry look. 

“I'm so, so fucking sorry, Duro took them. It's not like I need them often so this fucker thought he could steal my stash.” 

Nasir sat back, slightly nervous. He winced, running a hand in his thick hair, “I don't really want to… I mean, not without protection. Sorry, but… I saw a 24/7 store round the corner, I can go get some quickly.” 

Agron sat back on the bed, both frustrated and furious against his brother. This kid was such a pain in the ass, even when he was not around! “It’s ok, I’m all for safety too, don't worry. Just really pissed at my brother right now.”

Nasir knelt, long hair framing his gorgeous face. He smiled, always so wise, “I don't mind running to the store. Or… there are plenty of safe things to do without condoms, if you can't stand leaving me for just five minutes?” 

Agron did not need to think more than half a second. He nodded eagerly, crawled back into Nasir's arms, and resumed his kissing like his life depended on it.


	3. This is so sad, Saxa play Despacito!

The first time Agron had laid eyes on Nasir, a few hours ago, he had seen the saddest face of Europe, no less. Now that he laid in his bed, among rumpled blankets, satiated, still panting from their embrace, he looked even happier than when he danced. Agron could not believe such smile was directed towards him. And those grins just never left! Nasir seemed to love being touched, sometimes almost on pillow queen level, he loved to give and take the upper hand but he looked especially glorious when he received attentions. His happy smiles would have boosted any lover's ego. 

Even after they were done humping, fingering and frotting like unexperienced teens, Nasir kept touching him, all soft butterfly kisses, gentle nibbles and tender caresses. He craved snuggles Agron was happy to give. This was not his usual type of “sleep on first date” night -- after all, it had started with him dancing, which should have predicted for an atypical evening. 

“Thank you,” Nasir murmured as he ran his fingers in Agron's hair, a touch the fighter could easily get used to. 

“Thanks for what?” Agron chuckled, “You did at least half of everything.” 

“I really liked your half,” Nasir assured with a grin, rolling onto his side to wrap his legs around Agron's waist. 

They kept their touch light for a moment, brushing fingertips over sensitive skins. To Agron's eyes Nasir was perfect, his only flaw was to look like boyfriend material but the poor boy was not responsible for Agron's unique ability to fall in love so quickly. 

After a long moment resting in each other's arms, since none of them seemed ready to doze off, Agron rested on his elbow next to Nasir's head, brushing strands off his brow. 

“So, sexy stranger, where do you come from? I had never seen you around…”

“I come to this club once a month,” Nasir chuckled. “You never do, so you couldn't see me.”

Agron had to admit he wasn't wrong. Then Nasir added, “I'm from Syria”, making Agron blush and profusely apologize. 

“Wait, wait no-- I didn't mean…” he stammered, feeling heat rising up on his cheeks. “I meant where you're from, where you grew up. Not… ethnically! I am not one of these white people! I mean… your accent is funny, I thought you were raised in Stuttgart, Düsseldorf maybe?” 

He felt so terrible for sounding so wrong! Nasir must have mistaken him for some racist douchebag, fuck, Spartacus didn't teach him this way! His handsome date ran two fingers in the center of his chest and his abs, a path he seemed to enjoy a lot, then repeated, “No, I'm Syrian. Born and raised. I came here one year ago.” 

“Uh… you did?” Agron mumbled, surprised and speechless.

“Yeah. My auntie taught me german when I was a kid, she said if I ever had to run away, I would find the most supportive immigrant communities here.” 

Agron frowned, slowly processing all the information, putting two and two together while his hands couldn’t stop tracing patterns on Nasir's golden skin. “Oh, so what you said about having small jobs here and there… you're, like, a refugee?” 

Nasir nodded, bright smile almost gone. “Asylum seeker, yeah. Still seeking, the administration is slow, even more with all the shit happening all around the world, and it’s not easy working without papers.” 

Agron nodded in silence, impressed by the layers he uncovered one by one. There was so much depth behind those beautiful eyes, so much sadness under the smiles. He wanted to learn more, to know who he was behind his handsome facade. 

“You mean you could get deported?”

Nasir shrugged, “Among many other things yeah. But hey, it's cool, I didn't come here to talk about that, okay? I didn't even mean to talk so much…” 

Agron brought his hand to his lips and kissed his knuckles like a young groom. “You didn't stop talking, dude, not even when you came… not that I don't like that, though. But if you can't work, I guess you have no benefits either, how do you pay for what you need?” 

“I get some jobs sometimes, off the books. Small undeclared contracts. Otherwise I relay on the solidarity of Middle-Eastern communities, generous locals, associations...” Nasir explained. “We don't have much choice but to help each other.”

Agron tried to remember the last time he had volunteered or even given food or money to a charity, and felt guilty for not managing. Nasir took his hand to nuzzle it gently, almost shy. Agron regretted bringing serious topics up because he had chased the beautiful smiles away. 

“Since I'm pretty, I can get more easy cash than some others, at least it helps… please don't judge me,” Nasir added with a sorry smile, strangely shier than usual, top of his cheeks blushing dark. 

Never anything but supportive, Agron shrugged, “Oh, it's ok, I get it! My friends Gannicus and Crixus often get modeling gigs too!” 

This time Nasir couldn't contain his deep sigh, he shook his head and grunted, a hand on his eyes, “Astaghfi-rou-llah, Agron, you're really exhausting!” 

Agron lowered his head, unsure of what he had done wrong this time. He repeated Nasir's words in his mind, then opened his mouth on a surprised “oh” when he understood the ways a cute guy could easily get cash. He blushed, didn't dare to maintain eye contact for a while. 

“Sorry, I, uh… okay! I see! No problem,” Agron stammered. “It's fine, I mean, no, not that it's fine for you but… no judging from me! I, uh…” 

He scratched his head as Nasir gave him an amused look, then added, “Do you want money for tonight? It’s fine, I can…”

“Excuse me?” Nasir exclaimed with an indignant pout. “You've got to be kidding me, get out of my face!” 

He threw a pillow at Agron, making him lose balance and fall on the floor, which was a lesser punishment than he actually deserved for upsetting his little treasure of a man. Agron knelt on the floor next to the bed, hands on the mattress, only his eyes visible. 

“Sorry, sorry. I thought that, I mean if that's what you had in mind for us from the beginning…” 

Nasir rolled onto his stomach and ran his fingers in Agron's hair. “Just because I have had sex for money a few times doesn't mean I can't do it for my own pleasure. Don't ever do that again or I'm gonna kick your ass, cage fighter or not!”

Agron dared to climb on the mattress again, unsure where to place his hands, or himself. It was a lot to process. Nasir scooted against him, once again cuddly and warm. 

Careful with his words now, Agron dared to whisper, “I understand now why you looked so sad when we met before the club. Life was not kind to you.”

Nasir nodded. “Yeah, we can say that.”

“Your family they're still there? In Syria?” 

“I had parents and a brother.” Nasir mused, nostalgia filling his eyes. “They never had an opportunity to search for a better situation elsewhere. I hope the afterlife is good to them.” 

Agron let out a soft sigh. Why had he asked? Should he shut his big mouth and call it a night now instead of making things worse? He tried to lift the mood, “And still you find the energy to go dancing, you're amazing!”

Nasir nuzzled his palm again with a feline smile. “Dancing is my breath of fresh air, I can't live without it. I save enough for a night out every month, grab my only classy outfit to make sure I can get in the club, and go let steam off, forget everything. Makes it easier to bear the other days. Some of my friends do drugs, or drink, or practice religion intensely to find comfort… me, I just dance. I don't even try to get men to look at me, I just really want to let go and dance.” 

Agron's heart threatened to leave his chest, pounding hard, bringing tears to his eyes. He could not start punching things to hide his sensitivity, not tonight. Like hell would he leave his bed to run to the Ludus when he could stay in this handsome man's arms. He brushed his thumb on Nasir's cheek. 

“You’re much more of a fighter than I am.” Agron lowered himself and whispered, “What can I do for you? Is there any way I can help you?”

“Pffft, hey, I don't want your pity!” Nasir shrugged, failing to push him away but still shoving his palm in his lover's face. “I was fine before you and I'll be fine after. Thanks for the shawarma though.” 

Agron protested with a pout, “That's not pity! I just want to help. Would you refuse my solidarity?”

“Solidarity as a consequence for sex…” Nasir curled his nose. “I think solidarity is not the word you're searching for, think again.” 

Agron sighed, cheeks swelling like a scolded child. Wanting to help and not being able to was so frustrating! Nasir caressed his neck, his shoulders with a kind smile.

“You know what you could do to help me?” He smiled, then added as Agron nodded, “Put your clothes on and go get us a box of condoms. Then blow me. That's all the help I need.” 

Agron wanted to say no, to offer more help, to give him everything he wanted, to marry him if it could provide more comfort, whatever it would take! But he also understood he had to accept Nasir's pride and deal with it. So he kissed his lips, let his tongue linger for a while before he purred, “This I can do, that would be my pleasure, little man!”

As he slid his boxers up his thighs, ready to sprint to the store, he heard the door of the apartment opening and voices laughing. He rolled his eyes.

“That's Duro coming home, and he's not alone.”

“Your brother? Why don't you ask him for the condoms he took?” Nasir suggested with a smirk. 

Agron considered his options for a second then whined as he grabbed his socks. “Nah… he's gonna give me shit. It’s safer to avoid him!” 

“Tssk, how old are you, guys?” Nasir laughed.

He got to his feet, crumpled his boxers into a ball to hold in front of his crotch then walked out of the room, with a huge smile and all his radiant beauty.

“Hello!” he said, reaching for Duro's hand. “Agron and I need the condoms you took from his room, do you mind?” 

Agron bit his lip with an amused glare as Duro, speechless between his two dates, handed Nasir four small square packages. 

“Thank you, and sorry in advance for the noise,” Nasir teased as he walked back to the room, hiding nothing of his glorious ass. 

Agron welcomed him with a warm kiss. He was handsome, funny, playful and he messed with his little brother? God, that man was a real keeper! 

.

It was almost noon when Nasir woke up. Agron was in the small kitchen, cooking a feasty brunch while whistling Despacito, when he saw the bedroom door open. The vision made him smile, as he always did when he saw Nasir anyway, even when his date was all rumpled from their night, long hair tied in a parody of a bun on top of his head, wearing only his boxers. He looked grumpy like someone who hates mornings and Agron presented him a mug of coffee with a grin.

Nasir eyed him, the mug, the table, the plates filled with toasts, eggs, bacon and sausages, then shot him a sleepy but deadly glare. Agron showed him the empty plastic packages, and Nasir let out a deep sigh as he stroked his temples.

“Didja go out just to buy halal sausages? For me?” he slurred.

“Yeah!” Agron nodded proudly. “You just had to eat one of my famous breakfasts! That's my job to make sure everyone gets enough proteins!” 

“Let me guess, you're the clingy type, aren't ya?” Nasir said, sounding harsh but tender, before he raised a suspicious eyebrow. “You have a strange diet for a coach.” 

Agron shrugged and added some mustard on his own plate. He sat, waiting nervously for Nasir to take a bite, wondering if he had done too much. They had spent a wonderful night together, discovering each other through hours of foreplay and languid sex, they had shared stories of their past and dreams about their futures but they were from radically different worlds. They came from different backgrounds, and Nasir trusted Agron more with his body than with his heart for now. So when he finally started devouring his plate, Agron was reassured. 

“Ok, that's really fucking good,” Nasir moaned between two bites. “Exactly what I needed.” 

Agron put his chin on his hand with a smile that looked a lot like the one Castus had showed last night. “You spent many calories, you gotta regenerate your cells.” 

After watching him eat in silence for a while, Agron put down his fork and nervously fidgeted with his paper napkin --he had made exceptional efforts to set the table. 

“So, uh… I did not just go groceries shopping since I've been up,” he stated. “And I know this is a sensitive topic, so just let me talk and then we'll get from here.” 

Nasir leaned on his elbow, put down his coffee cup, grunted like a warning as a strand of hair fell on his nose, “I'm not moving in with you and I'm not marrying you.” 

Agron took a deep breath and smiled like he had never considered the option at all. “Yeah, no, not what I had in mind, don't worry! This morning I talked to my friend Naevia, who talked to her best friend Diona who works with BAMF. She could help you get the procedure done faster, put your file on top of their list and make you safe very soon.” 

Nasir's sleepy eyes opened a bit more in surprise. He tried to speak but Agron cut him off.

“No, listen first. I know you don't want to feel like I pity you or something so… getting her email is not a reward for having sex with me. I can give you her contact and we can stop seeing each other if you feel like us sleeping together makes it less of ‘solidarity’. I could find you a job at the gym, there are many options available and my boss Spartacus is a real social justice warrior, I know he wouldn't mind. I just want to help… but I know you wouldn't feel comfortable receiving help from your boyfriend so if that means not being together, it's okay.” 

Nasir yawned against his fist. He stayed silent for a moment, then sighed, “I did not sign up for this. I just wanted to fuck a hot guy.” 

Agron beamed at the compliment. “Thank you!” 

“So what?” Nasir asked. “You would see me work at the same place as you and not be upset that we're not together? You seem pretty hooked already.” 

Agron shook his head. “Honestly? I'd be devastated, like, super sad for a while, because you're one of the coolest guys I ever dated and I want to spend more time with you. I might be a dummy who falls a little too fast for pretty eyes like yours but I'm not a rapist. If you don't want me, then I won't harass you. This is life, it happens.” 

Nasir let out a soft sigh. “Listen, I need some time to think about it. That’s a lot to take, I sincerely don't know what to do.”

“I know, take all the time you need,” Agron nodded with a kind smile. He got up, gathered the plates and cleaned them to stay busy.

He expected Nasir to leave, take some time alone far from him, politely abandon him after a warm night, but his date simply laid on the couch, staring pensively at the ceiling for about half-an-hour. Agron knew he would miss him like hell when he'd be gone, so he ordered a kilo of Belgian chocolate from Amazon to handle the breakup, but when Nasir finally got up, he looked peaceful, and more awake too. 

“Ok, I thought about it.” 

Agron hummed nervously. He could feel the upcoming departure on the tip of his heart, he hated feeling so bad already. He hoped Duro would soon get rid of his two lovers so he'd have a shoulder to cry on. Spartacus probably was available too, always ready to listen to his friends and help them kick toxic masculinity in the balls. Yes, he was being ridiculous, he knew it. It was just one night. One sweet night to remember.

Nasir walked to him, rested his hand on the table. 

“Here's the thing. I really want a better life, not gonna lie, so if your friend can help me, I would appreciate that. If I were legal I could help my friends more, maybe study to get a degree equivalent to mine, because all the gardening jobs I get are nothing like what I've learned in journalism school.” 

“Ok. We'll do that.” Agron nodded, not so secretly happy to at least be able to give him logistics support.

Nasir settled on his thighs, arms around his neck, with a gentle but determined look. “And I could really use a boyfriend too… I mean I found myself a guy, the clingy romantic type, he looks boyfriend material to me.” He gave him a soft kiss, lips still tasting of his breakfast. “I don't want a sugar daddy, or a white savior, just a boyfriend. Is that clear with you?” 

Agron had unconsciously tightened his embrace around Nasir's waist. With a sheepish smile, he asked, “No spoiling you then?” 

“Come on, don't start with the puppy eyes! No spoiling. I want to feel like me, not like Julia Roberts in Pretty Woman, that's the deal.” Nasir warned. “Treat me like your boyfriend, not your good deed.” 

Agron had a solemn nod and kissed his knuckles. “Fine, I'll try to do that, and if I ever forget…”

“I'll treat you like an idiot that doesn't understand much, trust me you won't like it,” Nasir promised, softening his threat with a gentle kiss. 

Their lips remained chaste for a while, soft kisses sealing the deal. With a purr, Agron whispered, “What about a real date outside? Tomorrow? Starbucks?” 

Nasir rested his forehead against Agron's with a sigh. “Is that what you call cheap? I can't even tell if you're joking.” 

Agron shrugged, “Okay, fine, a box of condoms and my coffee maker?” 

Nasir laughed this time and promised, “I know a place that makes a mean mint tea with pine nuts, I'll take you there. Today I gotta go home though, my friends are always worried when I go out alone.” 

“No wonder why,” Agron smiled, running his fingers in thick hair to undo his bun.

“But first, shower! May I?” Nasir asked, getting up already.

“Sure! Do you want me to show you how it works? I know I'm always confused in other people's bathrooms,” Agron offered with a knowing smirk.

Nasir held his hand to help him up, with a heated look that left no room for misunderstandings. “Just what I was going to ask, come with me…”


End file.
